The Tale of the Family of Uncouth
I wish this rhyming poem could honestly be
A lovely, sweet sonnet, full of sentimentality.
Unfortunately, that is so far from the truth
As I tell you the tale of the Family of Uncouth.
The Family of Uncouth as it has always been told
Was an unusual family that was ever so bold,
In breaking absolutely all rules of decency
Which were diligently taught to you and me.
For starters, their baths were mainly reserved
For special occasions which especially deserved
Clean underwear, clean ears and clean faces,
Or where people might be in tighter spaces.
At times we would urgently, desperately pray
For a wedding or funeral to come our way,
Just so this family would have an excuse
To take baths since their smell was profuse.
Sunday go-to-church meetings weren't enough
For this odoriferous family to slip into the buff,
And take a bath that would graciously dispel
Our horrified noses from their abusive smell.
Whenever this family came to our meetings,
We ignored them, never acknowledged their greetings.
We all held our breaths and we all wiped our eyes,
We batted away at least a million flies.
And yet, folks, I'm telling the weird, absolute truth
About this here strange Family of Uncouth.
Nary a Sunday passed where the preached didn't stand
And greet all ten of them and shake each hand.
His wife followed suit, kissing the baby's sour mouth
And hugging each one while walking them out.
Inviting the entire family to their house for a meal
Was always a part of the Sunday's ordeal.
At least our saintly congregation was in consensus
Thinking maybe God had dulled their five senses,
To this family's peculiar habits and sanctions,
What other reason could there be for their actions?
Of course, if you were to ask our dear minister instead,
He would insist, while vigorously shaking his head,
It was God's love established in His Book of Truth,
Which caused them to reach out the Family of Uncouth.
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